WHAT IS AND WHAT SHOULD NEVER BE
by Onthnis
Summary: And if I say to you tomorrow, take my hand, child, come with me. It’s to a castle I will take you, where what’s to be, they say will be. Total AU. Our boys are not brothers. But they soon learn you don’t need to be blood to be family.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: WHAT IS AND WHAT SHOULD NEVER BE**

Author: Onthnis  
Rating: T  
Category: Gen. But this is an AU. So, if that is not your particular cup of tea-no worries.  
Characters: Sam and Dean (of course). Mary and John a little later. If you look closely you will recognize other characters from the series but they are all kicken' it AU style.  
Summary: And if I say to you tomorrow, take my hand, child, come with me. It's to a castle I will take you, where what's to be, they say will be. Our boys are not brothers. But they soon learn you don't need to be blood to be family.  
Disclaimer/Author's Note: I have had this story on my hard drive for probably eight months. I keep thinking I will work on it and post it-but haven't. My husband is sick and I so am not a nurse. So, I am watching football and cleaning up this story for posting. These boys do not belong to me…they are a product of my really overactive imagination and maybe one too many non-fat upside down Venti Caramel Macchiato's. As another personal note: I write for myself…if you like it…you like it…if not…well, you probably have good taste.

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Running a quick hand through his short dark blonde hair, Dean Winchester hastened a quick glance in his car's rear view mirror, closed his eyes and blew out a very tired and frustrated sigh. This was not where he wanted to be. The house in front of him definitely not where he thought he would ever come back to. Yet, somehow, there he was back in a place he had sworn to himself he would never return. Before he opened the car door, the blonde angrily slapped the steering wheel. "Dammit." God knows this was swallowing a pride pill bigger than he had ever taken before.

In contrast to his very bitter mood, the morning outside had shaped up to be perfect. Not a cloud in the sky, the breeze gentle and lazy, the sun shining bright yet not too hot. If he didn't know any better he would have figured Mother Nature was almost mocking him, as if to give him the biggest cosmic raspberry ever. Life sucked.

Climbing the massive staircase of the monstrosity of a house, Dean took some steadying breaths. You need to calm down Winchester, he thought to himself as he tried to rein in control of all the emotions that seemed to overwhelm him. This was not the time and God knows it certainly wasn't the place to lose it. No, that was going to be saved for later. Much later. Once he blew through this meeting. Then he could let loose. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could manage to slip out of the house and break in the new fake ID he managed to acquire shortly before he landed back home.

Growling to himself once more the blonde stood before the towering front door and uncharacteristically lifted his wavering hand towards the daunting doorbell falling short of actually letting his fingers touch the demonic noisemaker. "Chill, dude. Just check your ego and your pride at the door." This was the best pep talk he could muster. "What am I doing here, what am I doing here? Face it Winchester you are about to be emasculated. Why am I doing this again? God, I hate this fucking place. Nothing ever changes. The rich get richer and apparently always feel the need to prove it while good old Dean ends up poor and unemployed. This sucks, this blows, and this bites! Dammit!"

Finally, he managed to hit the doorbell. Hearing the grand bells ring announcing his very bitter arrival.

An eternity seemingly ticked away as the young man shifted impatiently. From a distance he could hear as heels clicked steadily on the marble flooring. Without ceremony, a young woman opened the door. The visitor certainly not a surprise. The assistant ushered the young man in the foyer and sternly reproached the late newcomer.

"You have kept him waiting." Was all she could manage.

"I know, sorry. There was traffic."

"Save it Dean. I've known you forever. Please don't even try playing me."

Dean smiled slyly, a twinkle in his eye his only apology as he stepped closer.

"You know me to well, Julie Parker" He winked.

Shaking her head, she smiled and tried not to give in. Charmer. He had been that way all the way through school. She was four years older than Dean but knew nobody was ever really free of the charms of Dean Winchester.

"Mr. Warner hates to be kept waiting." She reminded him as she led him upstairs to the man's household office.

Dean cradled his forehead with his right hand absentmindedly at both his temples as he followed closely to the young woman and tried not to fall behind. "I know."

The long walk ended and Julie expertly turned on one heal like a prima ballerina.

"He's got fifteen minutes before his next meeting. Keep it short. Don't even try to turn on your "Winchester Charms." Save it. Just go in, sit down and hear him out."

Dean smiled and nodded his head. "You doing anything tonight?"

"Dean. This is important. He's doing this as a favor."

"I got it Julie, trust me. I already heard that sermon twice this morning."

"Dean? I'm just saying…"

"Does that mean you are busy tonight?"

"God, you are insufferable. We'll talk later."

Dean smiled and winked before he put his hand on the door handle.

"You want me."

Caught between a laugh and a sigh Julie shook her head and pointed to the door. "Go Dean!" smiling again she mouthed the words good luck as he opened the door and swallowed his Winchester Pride.

Reese Warner was a powerful man. Money, success, people all seemed to gravitate to him. His reputation as a ruthless businessman was legendary. At 43, he had accomplished what it took most men a lifetime to realize. It all came so easy. Almost too easy. Many thought he was an arrogant ass. Quite frankly, Reese didn't take into consideration what people really thought of him. He hadn't the time or the inclination to care. But say what you want about the man, he was fiercely loyal to those around him. This included family, friends and even his employees.

Some would say his allegiance to those around him could be dangerous. Certainly, someone would take advantage of his kindness or generosity. For Reese, it was easy. He wouldn't have gotten to where he was in life without the support, dedication and hard work of the people he chose to include in his world. You get as good as you give was a mantra he lived by. So far, it had never let him down.

Never let it be said, however, that he didn't at least challenge those around him. Wanting them to want more for themselves than even they considered. Setting goals and achieving them were Reese's stock and trade. He had no desire to associate with people who weren't willing to give more than 100 of themselves.

"Dean Winchester." Reese smiled warmly as he rounded his large cherry wood desk and held out his hand.

Dean moved quickly to meet Reese and shake his hand.

"Sir, it's good to see you."

"Please, Dean, take a seat on the couch." Signaling the young man to the Italian leather couch Reese took a seat on the matching leather chair.

" I heard you just returned home."

"Uh, yes sir, I just got home a few days ago."

Nodding his head, Reese studied the young man.

Feeling nervous under the scrutiny, Dean squirmed awkwardly on the plush leather. It felt like it was getting hotter as he sat. Sweat beading on his upper lip and undoubtedly starting to create a rather noticeable armpit stain. Great, he thought, this is starting well. Fidgeting again, Dean swallowed quickly and rubbed his palms together.

The wealthy man let the moment drag for a little longer, enjoying the youth's nervousness.

"So, Dean. You are eighteen, right?"

"Uh, no Nineteen, sir."

Reese nodded (he knew exactly how old the young man was). In fact, there really wasn't anything the businessman didn't know about the kid. "Yes, nineteen. Good age."

Dean nodded not really in agreement, more to just get the conversation going. If he didn't know any better he would have thought Mr. Warner was enjoying his distress.

Picking an imaginary errant thread from his designer shirt, Reese finally let the young man off the hook.

"Let me get to the point, Dean, I understand, you are need of employment. It had been my understanding you were enrolled in college. I don't think I need to be the one to point out what an important role a proper education is…." Reese continued on as Dean's attention span dwindled.

Dean had heard this speech ad-nauseaum for months. Since his return from school it had become a regular theme in the Winchester household. The virtues of a higher education repeated endlessly and without an end in sight. God, what is it with adults. They like school so much why don't they go back.

Seeing the young man starting to drift away, the tycoon finally let up. Certainly he had heard the education speech. "I'm sorry, for getting off track," looking at his watch he stood up and moved to his desk. Picking up an envelope he moved back and this time sat on the couch next to the young man.

"I think we might be able to help each other."


	2. Chapter 2

Author Note: I totally forgot to mention the title of this story is a Led Zeppelin song. Don't know why it just seemed perfect for this story…Can't put my finger on why. So, I don't own them either…but I appreciate their music forever and always.

Disclaimer: can be found in the first chapter…you know I don't own them…blah blah…oh and again…I write this for my enjoyment…if you like it…..yeah! If not, well….hey…whatever…at least I didn't have to nurse my husband back to health….Hope it, at least, didn't make you sick…..that would suck.

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Dean tried to look disinterested as Reese ran his fingers over the very expensive envelope.

"I'm sure you heard about the sudden death of my wife this spring?"

Dean nodded not able to meet the man's sad eyes. The death of Kristin Warner had been sudden and devastating. Not only to her family but the entire community. Kristin had been the heart and soul of the house but she was also a shining beacon in the small tight knit town.

Everyone, of course, knew the Warner family. Kristin was the bridge between the townspeople and the wealth and privilege of the upper-class society.

"Yes, sir. I was sorry to hear about your loss."

Reese said nothing in response. Quick flashes of memory assaulted him but he managed to make a fast recovery.

"I have spoken with your mother. I believe we might be able to help each other out, son."

Dean nodded his head as his interest finally was piqued.

"After my wife's death, our son was devastated. They were both very close. I felt it best to send him away for the summer."

Reese paused a moment remembering the destroyed look in his son's eyes in the days after her unexpected loss. "I'm afraid that might not have been as beneficial as I originally thought. School will be starting in a few weeks. He needs to be focused."

Not quite sure where this conversation was going, Dean started to voice his confusion.

"What I need, right now, is someone to assist me with my son."

"Sir?"

Before Dean could continue, Reese held up his hand and continued. "My son will be returning tomorrow. I need someone to make sure he keeps his head together. Someone to watch out for him. Keep him in line."

Dean stood quickly and shook his head quickly to stave off any further discussion. "Mr. Warner. Sir. I appreciate you meeting with me. I do. I think what you are looking for. Who you are looking for is a babysitter. No offense, but doesn't he already have a butler? Isn't Brady responsible for keeping your son's head together?"

Reese continued to let his fingers roam over the embossed print of the rich looking envelope as he listened to the young man. He lifted his hand lightly and waved it back to the seat on the leather couch.

"Please take your seat, Mr. Winchester. Hear me out." Staring down at the envelope he met Dean's gaze as the teen took his seat once again. An unpleasant pause seemed to choke the air out of the room and Dean didn't think it would be possible to feel any more uncomfortable.

"Mr. Winchester, my son is very special." Reese stood from the couch and slowly made his way to the window. Carefully choosing his words but never once losing sight of the teenager's bored look in the reflection of the window. Smiling to himself he took a moment and continued.

"I'm not just talking special as in he is my son and I love him. I am saying my son has gifts. Special gifts. He is a brilliant child. He has a brilliant future ahead of him. Someday he will takeover for me and I do not doubt he will surpass even me in his success. The problem is even before the unexpected passing of his mother, he seemed to have lost focus. His mother, as much as I loved her, let him believe he was capable of doing anything he set his mind to. While I don't disagree with that fancy notion. It does not fit into the plans we made for him."

Turning from the window, Reese locked eyes with Dean as he leaned against the windowsill.

"As you mentioned, we do have a family butler. Brady is a valued employee and I consider him a member of this family, much like I do with all my household staff. Brady, unfortunately, is not impervious to my son's desires. That is very dangerous and a risk I cannot live with. What I need is a professional. Someone who won't let my son deviate from our intended goals. Someone who will be there for him but not let him get silly ideas on wasted activities in his head. I believed when he went away this summer that he would be going to a place where he would not only heal but also come to his senses with regards to all our hard work and planning. I fear this may have been a very wrong assumption. Yet, I don't believe all is lost. If you will hear the rest of my proposition out I believe we might be able to reach a mutual understanding while also making it very enticing to you, son."

Reese walked back over to the couch and handed the envelope he had been holding to the young man in front of him. Dean took the envelope and stared into the blue eyes of the intense businessman. Every ounce of him wanting to excuse himself as politely as possible and just get the hell out of there. Was it too early for a drink? Could he manage to get out of the house without anybody he knew seeing him leave? After all that it took to get a meeting with a prospective employer who wouldn't have him asking if someone would need something super-sized or if they wanted fries with it, Dean was unsure what his next move should be.

Sensing the flight instinct in the teenager, Reese Warner sat down next to the young man and offered up his most understanding father-type face.

"Open it." Reese encouraged as he smiled sweetly.

Dean swallowed hard. His hands shaking as if he were an explosives specialist and someone had just handed him a letter bomb. Beads of sweat lined his top lip as he tried to gracefully open the envelope. Once it was open he blew out a breath he hadn't even known he was holding and wiped a hand across his brow.

There in the envelope was a lone check. Opening it a bit further he could see quite a few zeroes on that check. Dean was sure it wasn't the biggest check Reese Warner had ever written. It was probably pocket change to the billionaire if all the rumors had been true. Nevertheless, it was the most substantial amount of money Dean Winchester had ever seen and it was sitting in his very hands for the taking.

Dean took a breath and studied the check once again. As if the numbers would disappear and the check would have only been an illusion.

"Sir, this is a check."

A sly smile slid across the billionaire's face as he read the dumbfounded face of the kid. This was almost easier than he originally thought. Anyone could be bought. Funny, the check was nothing. A very small sum and yet he knew it would be a steal.

"Uh, this is a check for 50,000"

Reese nodded in agreement.

Dean looked at the check once more and back in to the face of the waiting man. Putting the check in his lap and closely guarding it. Just in case Mr. Warner had second thoughts.

"$50,000 dollars." Dean still tried to comprehend.

Reese clasped his hand to Dean's neck in a fatherly type gesture.

"This is a down payment, let's call it your signing bonus, for now. There will be more. As of tomorrow, after your acceptance, of course, you will be in my employ. I will pay you an additional $50,000 a year to help guide my son. Get his mind back in the game. Let the distractions of his childish ideals go away. Help me mold him into the young man he will grow to be."

Dean picked up the envelope once more and before he could even open it to make sure it was still in there added "it's $50,000."

Reese stood up and Dean finally joined him.

"Before you give me your answer I have just a few addendum's to your employment."

Letting out a breath, Dean sat down once more. Perfect, he thought. He knew there had to be some kind of hitch to this. It all seemed so easy. Too easy.

"You understand you are to be like a mentor to my son. He will know you are a staff member but he is not to know why you are here. Second, you must not discuss the details either monetarily or details of what you are doing to anyone. Especially your family. Let everyone think you are his chauffeur or butler. I do not care. If I do find out either one of these valued trusts have been broken. I will end your employment and demand the $50,000 bonus back. Is that clear?"

"Yyyes. Yes, sir. So, you want me to be like a tutor to him? Dean managed to stumble out.

The billionaire nearly let out a snort at that. The idea seeming so impossible to consider. His son was a genius. No tutelage, in terms of actual education, would be required from this snot nosed teen. His son was a hundred times smarter than the kid before him. The idea was preposterous, at best.

"Dean, just guide him in the direction of our plans. No tutoring from you is needed. Do we have a deal, son?"

A silence filled the air once more. Yet, this time it was a more comfortable breezy silence. Dean was still not sure if this was the best decision. But, hell, it beat flipping hamburgers. How bad could one little bratty kid be, anyway? Just let him know who was the boss and keep on collecting checks. It seemed simple. Almost too simple. But, he wasn't going to get lost in that kind of thought. This was his moment. This was his time. Education be damned.

Dean stood and held out his hand. As Reese Warner wrapped his hand in the handshake of a fresh business deal he smiled at his new employee.

"We have a deal, Mr. Warner."

Reese led the young man to the door. "Wonderful. Samuel will be landing tomorrow at noon. I believe Julie; my assistant has all the details. You can meet with her."

Dean turned once more as the door opened and shook Reese's hand again. "I won't let you down, sir."

Yet, this time as he shook the hand and looked into the face of the smiling man. Dean was met with a feeling of dread. As if he had just shaken hands and sealed a business deal with the devil himself.

Deciding that the $50,000 would be enough to help him get over that he shook away the cold tingle that ran down his spine and made his way out of the office of the most powerful man he had ever met. His brand new employer, Reese Warner.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimers: STILL listed in Chapter One…you know the whole I don't own them…they really own me type of stuff. This is all just a product of my weird little demented (and tired brain). As a note again…I write for me…if you like it…I'm glad…if not….well…come on…I'm not Hemingway. My husband is still sick. My patience is worn super thin and now I have decided he's not really sick he's MAN sick. That's a whole level of sick where I think he's not really sick. He's just too lazy to get off the couch. I mean it is the beginning of football playoffs. Oh, and GO CHARGERS!

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The Gulfstream G550 jet sleeked effortlessly down the tarmac of the small general aviation airport. Somewhat out of place with the usual small single engine Cessna's and Piper's that were the normal residents of this facility.

The business jet always raised a few brows. Old pilots and mechanics along with student pilots took notice whenever any jets landed. Stories from the experienced airmen mixed with the awe of the students and soon tales of the plane and its owner ran rampant.

As the jet taxied to the small terminal building, most of the interested parties went back to their regular routines. The excitement having died down, for the moment.

Dean Winchester growled under his breath as he found himself behind the wheel of the brand new 2007 Java Black Supercharged Range Rover. The interior was rich in ivory leather and cherry trim. There was a GPS navigation system, a rearview camera, and hell; there were two DVD players and one badass sound system with 14 speakers. The car dripped money, it had to have set back old man Warner a cool $100 grand, and Dean didn't feel the least bit comfortable driving. Well, except for the sound system. Metallica never sounded so good. But, give him his 1967 Chevrolet Impala any day. This car screamed come beat me up or let me pick the kids up at the soccer field

Nursing what had to be the most intense hangover known to modern man, the blonde managed to slide into a parking spot. He had managed to slip out of the house the night before, once his mom and dad had gone to bed. It just wasn't right. He was nineteen years old. He had tasted freedom for over a year while he was away at school. Now that he was home the leash had returned. Taunting him cruelly. Yeah, his parents let him move home but at what price. His pride, his ego? Definitely his social life. Whatever that was. In this small town that was a joke.

In any case, Dean had the chance to break in his new fake ID in the next town over. It would have been too dangerous to use it at home. So, the nineteen year old snuck into the little dive bar and settled into the "nightlife". A few games of pool later, a never ending supply of beer with a lot of skanky girls, Dean had pronounced the night a complete success. The hangover in the morning a badge of honor and a salute to the fine artwork of the master who created his new drivers license.

Now that reality had smacked him in the face, though. The hangover was becoming an irritant. His life as a what? A chauffeur? No. Too stuffy. A butler? God, no. Might as well just kill myself. Well, whatever he was. He never thought it would include a Range Rover and trip to the airport to pick up the young, obscenely wealthy heir to a fortune that could never be spent, certainly not enjoyed, as Dean would see fit. "Bitter much, Winchester?" Dean asked himself quietly. It was probably the headache talking. Probably the added nausea that also taunted him. Whatever it was, Dean was in no mood to deal with it right now. If ever.

But, it was a job. A really good paying job, at that. Face it dude, he thought to himself.

It could be worse. You could be cleaning toilets or serving fries through a drive-thru window. Somehow, though, that had little effect on his encouragement speech. Seeing the expensive airplane taxi to the gate only exacerbated his crabby mood.

The cabin door to the plane opened up and soon the ground crew, working at the terminal, rushed out to greet the newcomers. A red carpet and a small step stool were placed carefully announcing the arrival of what had to be a very important dignitary or royalty. Within a few minutes a tall, slender teenager appeared at the doorway. Slinging a large black backpack, the young boy stared out to the beautiful day and smiled graciously as a steward quickly took his bag and sprinted down the steps to the building close by.

Looking around, the teenager took in the sights of a place he hadn't seen in nearly three months. So much had changed in the days and weeks since he departed from this same spot. It had been a long summer. Probably the worst days he had ever know. His return was not anticipated. This, in fact, had been the moment he dreaded for the past few weeks. As soon as he received the call summoning his return, he had fretted and even prayed that there would be some mercy given. Some divine intervention granted. No such concession was received.

Enjoying the late summer sun as it bathed his tan face, the dark haired boy breathed in the fresh air, closed his eyes and let out a deep, cleansing sigh as he began his descent of the steps. The ground crew and the flight crew stumbled all over each other as they guided the young man into the air-conditioned comfort of the airport. The teen guardedly studied the small crowd of people surrounding him as he entered the old building. There were no familiar faces waiting for him. Maybe, if he was lucky, they forgot. Somehow, this was all a bad dream. He was actually still lying in bed. Soon, the maid would come in and open the blinds, bringing him orange juice and toast. Reveling in the memory for a moment too long the boy soon heard a voice beckoning him back to the present.

"I see our crowned Duchess has made his humble arrival."

Turning quickly to the source of the annoying voice, the dark haired teen turned his blue-green eyes to meet unwelcoming hazel orbs.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?"

The nineteen year old looked exasperated as he studied the younger teen in front of him.

"I probably don't exist in your world." Dean mumbled. He moved to accept the large backpack that had been earlier acquired by the flight crew and sneered disgustedly at the offending item. Without a second thought, the blonde thrust the bag into the other boy's arms.

Feeling confused and overwhelmed, he finally had had enough. "What the hell is your problem, dude? Who are you? Where's my father?"

Dean stared out around the room looking at the remaining people in the building and never acknowledging the kid.

"Your dad's busy, Duchess. I'm your…I don't know. I'm in charge of making sure your ass gets home." Still scouring for signs in the terminal, Dean distractedly continued, "your dad hired me to drive your scrawny ass around and make sure you don't get into any trouble." Finally looking the teen in the eye. "Though looking at you, I can't imagine what trouble you could get into, Poindexter."

"Who the hell are you? Why would my father hire you?" The boy had finally had it. How much was he supposed to take? His mother had always raised him to be respectful and considerate to everyone. But, the older teen was pushing his buttons.

"Names, Winchester. Dean Winchester."

Staring at Dean for a moment, the dark haired teen finally responded, "Winchester? As in Mary Winchester? You related to Mary, our housekeeper?"

"Yes, Duchess. She's my mom, dude." Dean shook his head in complete disgust. Why the hell did I take this job? I should have just gone to work at Mickey D's. This is going to totally suck, he thought to himself as he continued to survey his surroundings.

"Dude, what are you looking for?

Letting out an impatient sigh Dean looked into the curious eyes of the fifteen-year-old boy. "The luggage carousel thingy."

A ghost of a smile bloomed two amused dimples as he shook his dark head. Finally laughing at the older boy. "There is no carousel. This is a general aviation terminal. My bags will be driven home by someone here at the airport."

"Oh….yeah. I knew that. Well, then what the hell am I doing still standing here talking to you? I'm not carrying you to the car." Dean bit off, as he found the exit door, not even bothering to hold the door open as he left the building.

Sam Warner let out an amused smile as he shook his head at the new development. Of course nobody had even bothered to tell him that he had a new…what, a new Dean? Something told him this would be quite unusual and different. Adjusting the heavy backpack, the glass door opened again presenting an even more frustrated older teen.

"I don't have all day, dude."

The two walked through the parking lot. There weren't too many cars and Sam, even though he had never seen the new car before, knew it had to be one of his father's.

Dean hit the remote button to the expensive car and climbed into the driver's seat. Waiting for a moment Sam finally opened the back door himself and threw his backpack in. He climbed in right behind and shut the door.

Looking in the rearview mirror, Dean shook his head in disgust. "Duchess, do I look like Morgan Freeman? You sure ain't Miss Daisy. Get up front, dumb ass."

Here Sam thought returning home would be daunting and worrisome. Now he knew it would be all that and irritating and confrontational. The teen opened the door and started to open the front passenger door. "Welcome home, Sam." He said to himself.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimers: Still don't own them…blah blah blah…see chapter one.

If, for some reason, you are still reading this….well, WOW. Nobody must have written anything else. You must be desperate. Nevertheless, I have to let you know…don't expect any updates for a couple of days. Hey, as you can tell, writing is SO not my day job. Thank God. I'd be VERY hungry. Alas, my actual employer does expect me to work and while I have a great deal of this story done…I have to beta it myself. I would never subject a poor sole to that task. So, I will be back in a few days. Maybe my husband will have made it off the couch by that time. I won't hold my breath, though!

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The drive home seemed unending. Sam stared out the window sadly as memories assaulted him. Closing his eyes he leaned his forehead against the window. God, he wanted to be anyplace than here. He had spent three months in California with his Aunt and Uncle. The time away helping to ease the pain and loneliness.

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Aunt Marissa, his mother's sister, had taken him in at his most vulnerable time and made him apart of her home. Her husband, Danny, also welcomed the opportunity to include his nephew. Quietly joking to Sam how nice it was to have another guy in the house. He loved his daughters, Jessica and Cassie, but he had always wanted a son. Sam was more than happy to help fill the void. His father wasn't as hands on. Three months with Danny Soriano and Sam had started on the road to healing. Blossoming quickly in the companionship and love of the close-knit family.

For three months he had been the protective older brother to his eleven and thirteen year old cousins. He had grown particularly close to Jessica, the oldest of the two girls. She would listen as the older boy dealt with the sudden loss of his beloved mother. Often venturing off for long walks in the local parks or just roaming around the cities many malls.

The Sam Warner that arrived in Palo Alto, California wasn't the same as the one who had left. The Sam that had been welcomed into the Soriano household was a tall, gangly and very sad and despondent teen. Arriving on the doorstep with more emotional than physical baggage. Leaving Palo Alto even taller and more filled out, due to hours and hours of long and intense one on one-basketball games and endless impromptu football, baseball and soccer games played with new friends gathered on his extended visit.

Leaving Palo Alto seemed inevitable yet something that the whole family hadn't been willing to acknowledge even as the time for him to return home was fast approaching. Yet, even late night phone calls from both Danny and Marissa Soriano could not convince Sam's father to let him stay in California and continue his education with all the friends and family who openly and without hesitation embraced the teen. Allowing him to slowly but surely move forward in his recovery.

Reese was adamant that his son needed to return home. So much time had already been lost while his son reeled from his mother's loss. This was time his father felt Samuel would never get back. Unfortunately, it was also time that was needed to get his son back on track. A quick decision had been made and Sam was sent, without explanation to the young teen, to California.

At fifteen years old, he would be entering into his sophomore year at the very prestigious Walden Academy. If all went the way Reese planned on masterminding, Samuel would graduate a year ahead of his class and enter Harvard University, as he had planned since Sam was practically in the womb. There would be no derailments or obstacles in his young son's path. This was his dream.

No amount of pleading would convince Reese to leave his son with his wife's family. While he appreciated the sentiment, there was no room for their inane emotions to sidetrack all that he had worked so hard for.

The last week before Sam's imminent departure was bittersweet. The tight knit brood tried to push aside the impending date and enjoy their last few days as a family. Sam's newfound friends playing a big part of his going away. None of them willing to accept that they would not see the teen soon.

"I can't believe you are leaving. It seems like you just got here," Jessica cried as she gave her older cousin a sorrowful hug. "I wish you could stay."

"It's OK, Jess. I'll be back. Maybe even at Spring Break." He knew even as he spoke the words that this would never happen. Not as long as Reese Warner drew a breath. He loved his father. It had come as a big surprise when his father sent him to California. The casual upbringing the Soriano's were accustomed to would never happen in Reese's world. Even when his mother had been alive.

"Can I at least call you?" the crying girl continued as she pulled away to look her cousin in the eye. Knowing she could see through any lines he might pull.

"You better. You have my cell number. Call me."

Smiling at the truth she saw glimmering in his blue green eyes she stepped back to let her younger sister say her goodbyes.

One by one the family and friends that saw him off on his flight back home said their sad farewells.

"Hey, kiddo. I really tried," Danny whispered into his nephew's ear.

Not able to verbally respond all the teen could do was nod as he hugged his Uncle.

"I know." He finally whispered. "Thanks."

Marissa wiped the tears from her eyes unabashedly. Her sister's baby had grown up, matured and mended right before her very eyes. Kristin would be very happy and somehow she knew even proud of the young man that stood before her. He still had a long way to go and she hoped that her brother in law would embrace the "new Sam" yet she wasn't naïve. In Reese Warner's world it was not good enough to be loved, have friends and be happy.

Happiness was built on another platform for that man. In his eyes, an exclusive higher education, the ability to squash any competitor and a winner take all attitude was just what his teenage son needed to survive. His whole life mapped out for him. The Soriano's, while a stable force in his son's life, would only deter him from the great plans and dreams he had in mind for Sam. Even if Sam didn't share those ambitions.

Marissa enveloped the young boy in a fierce, loving hug. God willing, Sam would be strong enough to stand up to the overprotective and overbearing father. In the three months she had really gotten to know her amazing nephew, she caught glimpses of the boy's own ambitions and desires for himself. Most of them, while fascinating and challenging would most definitely never coincide to the path etched out for the boy. His spirit and fortitude were definitely from his mother, with a little luck and some positive reinforcement he might just end up getting everything he wanted. Sadly, she wasn't sure where he would find that positive role model.

"Oh, honey. We are going to miss you so much. You tell your father to let you come see us." Cupping the young face and wiping his tears with her thumbs she reached up on her tiptoes and brushed a kiss on his forehead. Whispering into his ear. "You are very strong. Do what makes you happy, sweetheart."

Hearing those words broke his heart. Those were words his mother would have told him. He nodded his head and studied the ground. "I will."

He took a few steps towards the waiting jet and turned around. He waved goodbye to his friends and family and slowly ascended the steps to his old life. Taking a seat on the plane, he buckled his seat and studied the small crowd. Cassie and Jessica stood arm in arm next to their mother and father as his two close friends, Matt and Zane waved goodbye.

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Sam raised his face from the window and ran a hand through his hair. His father would kill him. His hair far longer than his father would ever permit. Image was everything. He would certainly not hear the end of it once he set foot in the fortress his father called home.

Staring back out at the very familiar surroundings, Sam rested his head against the headrest and closed his eyes again.

Dean said nothing in the car ride home. His mind wandering as he cranked up the music louder. He knew he should feel thankful that he had, once again, managed to land on his feet with this seemingly sweet, cushy job. What the hell was there to complain about? He drove around in a $100 thousand dollar car. His main job to make sure the little brat in the passenger seat was where he needed to be and didn't stray from his daddy's intended path. Cautioning a quick glance, the blonde couldn't help but frown at the boy beside him.

Poor little spoiled rich boy. Most likely a straight A student Dean had so despised when he was in school. Eager to please and make daddy happy. As far as he could tell the dark haired boy was just another rich little punk kid. Probably thought the world owed him everything on a silver platter. Well, he had news for the little shit. Dean Winchester was certainly not one of his little minions. He would not be serving Sam anything, much less not on a silver platter. Seeing the kid move his head from the window and then lay it back on the headrest, Dean quickly swerved to make his exit. Knowing full well this would get the kid's attention.

"Well, Duchess it looks like we have arrived back to your royal castle."

Sam frowned and stared back at the older teen. What the hell was his problem? Sam knew he had met Dean years ago. Mary had brought him to work. While the two really had nothing in common, Sam remembered having a quick snack with the older boy. Exchanging pleasantries and enjoying the food. The older boy obviously wasn't happy with his current occupation. Why did he take the job if he hates me so much, Sam wanted to blurt out. The right turn, though, signaled any end to that discussion as the Warner mansion came into full view.

The outside of the family home sitting completely unchanged. It was as if time had stood still and the three months that had passed never happened. But, that was impossible. Because if that were to be the case his mother would be alive and roaming the massive halls of a home he had come to dread.

Dean parked the car in the circular driveway; careful to keep it parked next to the door and under the protective ceiling of the home's entry.

Before he could pull the emergency brake and put the car in park, the passenger door opened and Brady, the family butler, greeted the youth.

"Mister Warner, so good to have you back home with us."

Sam smiled and stepped out of the car.

"Brady. It's great to see you."

Brady returned the genuine smile and hugged the young boy. Dean got out of the car and started for the front door.

Brady frowned at the nineteen year old as walked by.

"Mr. Winchester, I do believe you forgot to grab Samuel's backpack." Knowing full well the boy carried it everywhere with him.

Sam was not anxious to have the cranky teen complain about the extra chore. "I got it, Brady. That's alright."

"Nonsense. It is what Mr. Winchester should be doing." Knowing exactly the attitude that Dean was demonstrating.

Sam knew there was nothing he would be able to say to dissuade the family butler from demanding the Winchester boy from handling his job. He also knew he would pay somehow for this.

Brady turned to walk towards the house as Dean brushed up against the unsuspecting younger boy. Mumbling on his way back to the car and opening the backdoor.

"Oh, let me get your purse for you, Duchess." Dean reached in and grabbed the offending item and swung it off the seat, not really expecting or comprehending exactly how heavy it really was.

"What the hell do you have in here, little girl?"

"Books."

"Ah, a nerd and a Duchess. Powerful combination. You must land all the chicks."

Sam rolled his eyes and caught up quickly with Brady as he greeted and filled the young boy in on all the gossip of the house. He had missed the young Master and was anxious to have him back in the fold again.

"Oh, and Mr. Winchester. I'm sure you will want to bring the bag up to Samuel's room. His wing is on this side of the stairs, his bedroom the second door on the right. Please try not to break anything." Brady pointed up the right side of the stairway.

Dean hefted the bag over his shoulder grumbling all the way as he walked up the stairs.

"Oh, absolutely. We wouldn't want young Master Warner to get a cramp would we?" Dean mocked as he imitated the older butler.


End file.
